Zimbabwe's Cultural Heritage

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THE NDEBELE

The Ndebele of Zimbabwe constituted themselves into a migrant kingdom around 1821. The original Nguni group came out of the Zulu, Ndwandwe, Mthethwa and Swazi States. Their King was Mzilikazi Khumalo, a son of Matshobana. His mother was probably Cikose Ndiweni. The Ndebele were the last to leave Zululand. Parties led by Zwangendaba Jele, Sotshangane Nxumalo, Ngwana Masseko and Nqaba had gone ahead of the Ndebele.

The general cataclysmic dispersal of the people from the south-eastern seaboard of South Africa is referred to as Mfecane. Generally, there are two theories that are used to explain this great scattering. The first theory is that King Tshaka of the Zulu was behind it all. His imperial and military consolidations were the cause of great suffering and hence the dispersal to avoid his conquering campaigns. As a result, there was a general depopulation of the interior. This theory is in line with apartheid philosophy – whites moving into the area did not take away land from the blacks.

The second theory attributes the great scattering to economic activities at the Cape and also in the Delagoa Bay (Maputo) area of Mozambique. Industrial activities in the Cape needed labour that was obtained from the interior. The hunt for labour put pressure on the people to the north-east of the Cape. Another source of pressure was the slaving activity taking place in the Delagoa area. African groups inland began to compete to control the trade routes to the sea. Slave hunters were at work causing strife in the whole area. While it is true that nations in the general area did turn on each other, the underlying causes were the pressure to service the growing industries and the slave trading on the Mozambique coast

Leading a group of no more than 500, Mzilikazi led his people over the Drakensberg Mountains, Izintaba zoKhahlamba. In order to beef up his nascent kingdom, he incorporated Sotho/Tswana and Pedi people he encountered in the Transvaal (now the Gauteng, Limpopo and Mpumalanga Provinces).

King Mzilikazi established three settlements south of the Limpopo River. The first, from 1822 to 1827, was on the Vaal River, uLikhwa. The second, from 1827 to 1832, was where present day Pretoria is located. The third and final one was in the Marico Valley in Western Transvaal.

It was Griqua raids on the Ndebele - in search of cattle – that forced King Mzilikazi and his people to consider moving on. There were also raids from the Zulu once Dingane became king in 1828. However, the decisive factor was an attack, in 1837, by the Boers under Andries Hendrick Potgieter and Sarel Cilliers. The King split his people into two groups that became separated from each other for two years.

The Ndebele established a final home in south-western Zimbabwe, where they found the Rozvi State already weakened by Queen Nyamazana’s Swazi, who had separated from Zwangendaba’s group on its way to the north.

King Mzilikazi reunited the two sections of his people and incorporated indigenous groups into his new state. Queen Nyamazana Dlamini, who had established a state called Mthwakazi, was married to King Mzilikazi. By means of that marriage arrangement, King Mzilikazi took over the State of Mthwakazi and maintained its name. The king died in 1868 and was succeeded by his son Lobengula after a bloody civil war. Colonial machinations led to the demise of the State of Mthwakazi.

Mthwakazi was attacked. Lobengula fled north after ordering Bulawayo (his last capital where present day Bulawayo stands) burnt. It was all over. Colonial rule took root. The Ndebele were evicted from their former homes. Two reserves were set aside for their occupation – namely Shangani (now Nkayi and Lupane) and Gwayi (Tsholotsho).

In terms of culture, the Ndebele are closest to the Zulu and other Nguni groups of South Africa. Ndebele society today consists of the original Nguni group that came out of Zululand, the Sotho/Tswana incorporates and the Shona – Kalanga – Rozvi peoples who were indigenous to Zimbabwe. Inevitably, the original Ndebele culture has undergone changes, though, essentially, it is still close to Zulu culture.

Face to face with the spirit of Africa

I looked at the sun, which was about to perform its daily ritual of departure. This meant the dual ceremony was about to start. It was dual because my aunt and her daughter were being ‘brought home’ simultaneously. I had looked forward to this day because I had not witnessed umbuyiso before.

A short energetic man clapped his hands to draw our attention. Suddenly, people wore sad faces and trudged towards my father, who was standing, with a characteristic stoop, in front of the kitchen hut. He was the chief priest cum master of ceremonies. Relatives gathered around my father for a briefing on how the double ceremony was going to be conducted. My father opened up the debate to the relatives. No insurmountable hitches were encountered. It was agreed that my aunt would be brought home first, her daughter soon after.

The people present spoke in hushed tones, in deference to the people whose souls were being brought home. Ndebele religious philosophy posits that human beings have a spiritual component that lives on beyond the grave. This spirit, separated from the body, wanders into the unfathomable abyss of the universe. It wanders in solitude until it is brought back home to take care of its earthly progeny.

Just when we all thought everything was in place, one woman brought to our attention the fact that my aunt’s daughter had been buried in Bulawayo, and that soil from her grave had been brought along. A momentary uneasy silence was broken by a piercing dry cough from an old man. The man suggested a ritual burial of the soil prior to conducting the bringing home ceremonies.

I heard a few loud sighs of relief and observed several heads nodding in agreement. At that point, we all went to the back of the homestead where my aunt was buried. Next to her grave a small hole was dug, and the soil from Bulawayo interred in this ritual grave. The short ceremony was marked by the solemnity that is characteristic of a burial.

Once back at the homestead, preparations for the next phase began. We were shown two calabashes containing consecrated beer: one for my aunt and another for my cousin. A she-goat was dragged from the pen. My worst fear came true. The responsibility of holding the jittery goat fell on me. In essence, it meant that I was to bring home the wandering spirit of my aunt and request it to take charge of its children.

My aunt’s eldest daughter balanced the calabash with frothing beer on her head and led the way to my aunt’s grave. I followed her, struggling to control the wild goat. I mustered all my strength. If the bleating thing bolted it could be misinterpreted as my aunt’s spirit refusing to come home. I was not prepared to take responsibility for such a tragedy.

Now the officiating priest, my father, knelt beside the tombstone. Prayerfully, he announced to my aunt’s spirit what we were about to do. He beseeched her to come home and take care of her children. As he uttered these words he poured some beer on the grave. He took a small quantity in his mouth, spat it out and then swallowed a small mouthful. Beer was poured over the back of the goat, which I was still holding with all my strength.

Silence descended. The goat, its back wet with beer, tried to pull a trick or two in order to bolt away. No, my aunt’s spirit bolting away into the void where it had been wandering along? I held it so tightly that it could only succeed in getting away if it left its horns with me.

Every person present took a sip of the beer in turn. The first sip was spat out and the second swallowed. A little beer should always be left in the calabash. This, my father poured onto the grave.

The joyful return started with me now the centre of attention. In my own hands I held the spirit of my aunt which I led home to her children. The izinyanga song, during which my aunt’s name was called out, accompanied our triumphal spiritual entry into the homestead. Sweating profusely, I was ordered to stand in front of the sacrificial hut, with the goat still firmly held in my hands. The singing party entered the hut and continued with the singing. Finally, to my relief, the goat was taken away from me to be slaughtered.

A few women with beer calabashes arrived as we prepared to repeat the same procedure for my cousin. These women were met by ululating women of the homestead, who took away the calabashes to a makeshift enclosure. Meanwhile, another she-goat was taken from the pen. This time I was spared the agony of grappling with a goat. With the two goats cooking in the pots, some men went to the cattle kraal to slaughter the first cow. The second would be slaughtered the next morning. For beef starved urbanites like myself, a memorable feast ensued.

I remembered an energetic schoolgirl from Josiah Chinamano School in Bulawayo who did a project on various Zimbabwean foods. This was during Scholastica. Her map showed beef as being eaten in Matabeleland. When I asked her why, she responded with gusto. "AmaNdebele athanda inyama" (The Ndebele people are great meat eaters).

Dancing commenced once we had finished our beefy supper. The drums, accompanying the Njelele type of songs, blared into the dark night sky. This was music for the indigenous people, those that the Ndebele people of Mzilikazi Khumalo found in this part of the world.

Later, the more martial Ndebele music took over. I had already retired to bed, in the car. However, my spiritual ear feasted on the Ndebele music that played virtually throughout the night. This was a night long bash. Dance, beef and beer carried the people to the next day. When I woke up the next morning, I was met by weary people who yearned for a quick nap in order to be ready for the second phase of the ceremony.

Here I came face to face with the spirit of Africa. The spirit of togetherness. That spirit of solidarity in bad and good times. Civilisation, that dehumanising condition of man, eats away at this very Africanness that has nurtured its people from time immemorial.

From about 10 o’clock in the morning there was a steady stream of neighbours bringing calabashes of beer. Scotch carts, pulled by four donkeys all walking side by side, brought in plastic containers of beer. I counted no less than 15 scotch carts that had come to deliver the beer to this homestead. Those coming on foot, both men and women, entered the homestead singing. At three o’clock in the afternoon, we took out of one hut a huge ilala basket into which was poured consecrated beer. This was the start of izinyanga. People moved and sang around the basket. My father was the first to step out of the circle and take a sip of beer using a gourd, isiphungo. What was left in the isiphungo he spilt to the ground and rejoined the singing and dancing group. More and more people followed suit until there was very little beer left in the basket.

Meanwhile, my father used a stick to stab the roof of the hut where the dance was taking place. He pulled out a little grass and threw it to the ground. This was an adulteration of an old Ndebele practice. In the past, the hut would have been completely destroyed.

The little beer remaining in the basket was poured on the ground. I inverted the basket and placed the gourd on it. More and more people poured into the homestead to take part in this great ceremony. Four beasts were slaughtered and eaten – the little girl from Josiah Chinamano School was right.

Mzilikazi in Zululand

Mzilikazi Khumalo was born in the 1790s in the Nquthu area of northern Nguni country in Eastern South Africa. This was before the emergence of multi-clan and powerful nation states. Society then was organised into small clans. The Khumalos, a Ntungwa Nguni group, lived under Magagu Wesikhaba Khumalo. There were other Khumalos in areas such as Enondweni, Empangeni, Emzinyathini and Ebabanango. For some unknown reason, the Khumalos under Magagu decided to leave the area north of Nquthu. Before this movement to the north, Mzilikazi and his twin brother, Bheje, were born. There is no agreement as to who their mother was. Patriarchal societies paid less attention to mothers.

Generally, South African sources, drawing mostly from the Reverend A T Bryant’s Olden Times in Zululand, give the name of Mzilikazi’s mother as Nomphethu, the daughter of Zwide KaLanga, the Ndwandwe (Nxumalo) king. Zimbabwean sources (Nyathi, 1994, Cobbing, 1976) claim that Mzilikazi’s mother was Cikose Ndiweni, a daughter of the Mangwe chief, Ndlovu, who was the son of Mkheswa.

It is known that King Zwide Nxumalo killed Mzilikazi’s father Matshobana. Was Zwide so callous that he could kill his son-in-law? Mzilikazi married Mwaka Nxumalo (Nkulumane’s mother), who was King Zwide Nxumalo’s daughter. If Mzilikazi’s mother was a daughter of King Zwide Nxumalo, it would mean that Mzilikazi married his ‘mother’ by marrying Mwaka. Nomphethu is likely to have been one of Mwaka’s maids, alongside Fulatha Tshabalala. King Mzilikazi married Fulatha after 1826 following the death of Sukhunyana, Zwide’s son and successor.

The case for Cikose being Mzilikazi’s mother seems very strong. The Ndiwenis, being the King’s maternal uncles, enjoyed a special place in the Ndebele State. When Mzilikazi Khumalo split his followers into two groups after their defeat by the Boers in 1837, one group was placed under the charge of Gundwane Ndiweni. King Mzilikazi Khumalo appointed several Ndiwenis as chiefs, for example Mpukane (for Usaba); Thambo (Inhlambabaloyi); Manyoba (Umhlanjwana); Mqengana (Emadibeni); Qaqa (Mhlahlandlela-kwesincane). Also, King Mzilikazi Khumalo is not known to have married another Ndiweni wife. Hilda Kuper cites a Northern Nguni custom that regards as preferential a marriage of a man to a woman of his own mother’s patri-clan. Among the Ndebele, this preference seems to apply to a man’s grandmother’s patri-clan.